A Game to Remember
by sharpiedoodler
Summary: What would of happened if Katniss wasn't from District 12? What if she volunteered for the Games in District 7, with Johanna Mason as her mentor. And what if the moment she and Peeta met, they fell in love.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I wipe the sweat off my brow as I chop down the thick pine in front of me. The hot sun burns down on me, but I only have five more minutes until my shift was over. The only good thing that comes out of this job is being so close to the woods, which used to be like a second home to me, until Dad and Travier died.

"Katniss!" Cecily cries out from a neighbouring tree. Her blond head peaks out from a nearby tree.

"Yeah?" I ask, still hitting the tree with all my force. The axe swings, marking the tree in thick lines as it got thinner and thinner. It 's a steady rhythm.

"What time are you heading down to the Reaping?" She asks.

"Um," I start, but the axe missed it's mark. I drop it on the ground, "2, maybe? That's when it starts."

"Can I come with you?" She asks, sounding nervous. I didn't know why she was asking me this, we've lived on the same street for years, but we were never close.

"I can't. It's Prim's first year," I explain, bitterly. For the past week, Prim had become incredibly nervous, which was normal for anyone who was in Reaping, but the amount of nightmares she gets scares me, even this morning, she had woken up crying about how she was picked. I only have two years left of the Reapings, but Prim still has six ahead of her.

"Oh. It's just that Jana turned nineteen this year and Bryant and Rudy are already out," She tells me, sighing. Cecily is the youngest of four kids. She's always had an older sibling to volunteer in her place, although considering the amount of times a younger sibling gets reaped and the older one doesn't do anything, Cecily has incredible faith in her family.

"You'll be fine," I tell her. Cecily is lucky enough not to have to get tesserae. Since she has three siblings working as well as her parents, her name is only in there five times, compared to the twelve that mine in. I hear the bell ring and the entire shift starts walking towards the town. Cecily starts going off with them, before realizing I'm not with her.

"You coming, Katniss?" She asks.

"It's only ten. I have three hours to spend before Mom wants me home," I tell her.

Cecily frowns, but doesn't say anything about it, "Alright then, bye." She runs off to catch up with the other workers.

I creep back into the woods, going into the darker and denser part. Finally, I arrived at the fence that separates District Seven with the outside world. It's not much, just electrical with a bit of barbed wire on the top of it. Travier had dug a tunnel to the other side and peacekeepers either never found it or didn't care enough about it to fill it. I missed Travier a lot. He had been two years older than me and his family were great friends with mine. Even though he had a younger sister my age, it had always been Travier and I, until the seventy second games, when he got reaped. I remember thinking that District Seven was going to win that year, that Travier was going to become a victor. He had been great with an axe, I couldn't name the amount of times that he it his target straight on while we hunted. The last thing I had of him was a little mockingly pin. It was gold and he had bought it on the day of his reaping, claiming it was good luck. Once he'd been reaped and I visited him, he gave me the pin and instructed me on all the best places to sell meat in the District. I tried to give it back, but the peacekeeper pushed me out before I could.

I crawl through the hole, before heading down to the rotten log where I stored my bow. When I got there, I see that it's exactly the same as I had left it. I spot the pin I'd kept in in the log since the seventy second games and on a whim, I pocket it. I take the bow out and pull the string a few times. It's been a week since I last used it.

It's not like I'm trying to do illegal things. I do what i have to do to survive. Since my Dad died four years ago, Mom hasn't been able to keep a job. She had started a laundromat of sorts in the house, but it barely pays the bills. My family relies on my hunting and job to survive. It used to be better when Travier was alive, because we could go together and split the meat, but I'd learnt to deal.

I hold my breath as I spot the deer. It's large, with enough meat to sell for a good price. I aim the bow, but at last minute I remember how full the District is of peacekeepers and how easily I'd be sent to prison for going over the fence., much less hunting down a deer. I hesitate for a second too long. The deer catches my eye and runs off.  
I decide to start heading back home. It only takes me an hour, but as soon as I see the faces of the towns people, all the calm and peacefulness that hits while I hunted is gone. Most people are well dressed and look miserable. I can't blame them. At 2 o'clock, two more teenagers will be sent to their deaths and two more families will be destroyed.

* * *

So, I hope you liked. I'll be updating once a week.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I enter my small house and Prim greets me, already dolled up for the Reaping. Her shiny blond hair is in two braids and she's wearing one of my old outfits, even though it's a little big on her.

"Katniss! The Reaping starts in an hour," She tells me, worried.

"It's going to be fine Prim. You won't get picked," I lie. There's always a chance that you'd be picked.

"But!" she protests.

I cut her off, "It isn't going to happen, alright," I say, fixing a small section of her hair.

"Prim? Can you come here Sweetie?" Mom calls from the kitchen.

"Coming Mom!" She says, running towards her.

I head to my room, where Mom had laid out a dress for me. It's a light blue button up with small sleeves. I put it on before heading downstairs, where Mom offers to braid my hair for me, just like every Reaping. Once she's finished, Prim and I walk up to the Hall Of Justice, where the Reaping is.

As soon as we get there, Prim starts to panic. The area is crowded, with teary eyed adults hugging their children and dead eyed eighteen year olds who are already numb to the annual death draw. I spot a few twelve year olds hanging around near the front. They all look too young to be involved in something like this.

I shush her, "Prim, it's alright. They're just going to take a little bit of blood, just to make sure its really you, but after that, you just go to the crowd and hang out with the little kids, alright. When it's over, just find Mom and me and we'll head back to the house."

Prim nods, but she's still teary. I lead us to the lines, but she gets to the front first because hers moved faster. I watch as Prim winces as her blood gets taken. She looks at me one more time, fear in her eyes, before I lose her in the crowd.

"Next," The flat voice of a peacekeeper orders. I step forwards and he pricks my finger, before planting it down on a piece of paper. I try to shake the sting out.

"You're good to go. Next," The peacekeeper says, grabbing the next person's arm.

I look around for Prim, but she's probably with the other twelve year olds already, so I go into a section with people my age. One girl, Lycie Orban, who's in my grade, is already crying, but a few of her friends are trying to console her.

"Katniss!" Someone calls, close by. I turn to see Cecily, wearing a button up white shirt and a knee length satin red skirt, "It's about to start!" Her blond hair has been pulled back into a elegant bun, but a little bit of curly hair has fallen out of it. Her small brown eyes are slightly red, because of crying. She isn't the only one with red eyes, but quite a few are like that because people who are eligible tend to get drunk the night before a reaping. I tried it once when I was thirteen, because Travier, who had never touched a bottle of wine or held a cigarette before, opted to do it. I can barely remember the night, all I know is the next day Travier was reaped and I had a terrible hangover.

I look towards the stage and I can see our District's escort, Aiola Marcher, standing tall on the stage, fiddling with her microphone. She's wearing a ridiculously small and bright red dress, adorned with sparkles and enough flashy material to permanently blind me.

Behind her is three of our District's five mentors, Johanna Mason, Blight Hemingway and Coren Millington. Johanna Mason had won the 71st Hunger Games by pretending to be weak so that she wasn't anyones target, then killing the few people that were left. It was a dirty strategy, but she came out alive, so it payed off in the end.

Blight won the 47th, I think. He won by a stroke of luck, when the entire arena had been thick forest with mile high trees. He would hide in the treetops until someone came near him, then he'd pounce and kill them.

Our final living victor was Coren Millington. He was ancient. He had won his games before they became double digits, by pure strength alone, because before the career days, District Seven was always the best off, because we'd been using a deadly weapon since we were ten. There was a rumour that the only reason he survived was because when it was time for the final fight between the two final tributes, who both happened to be District Seven, the female tribute tripped and fell off a tree. Now though, he's a ninety year old man who's drooling in his sleep. He hasn't left District 7 for nine years and I doubt that that number is going to go down.

"Hello! Hello! District 7!" Aiola's nauseatingly squeaky voice echoes through the microphone, "And welcome to the 74th Hunger Games!" Aiola pauses, waiting for an applause. After a few seconds, a short, small and awkward one occurs.

Aiola frowns, but in seconds she's back to her overly happy self, "Everyone knows the rules of the Reaping, so how about we get right to it!" She pauses again, but no one claps.

"Ladies first then, I suppose," She says, trying to sound cheery and excited.

Aiola digs her too long nails into the clear bowl for a few seconds, making a show of moving the papers around, before finally selecting one. I know my name is on twelve little papers. What if this was one of them? My heart starts to beat faster and faster. I glare at the paper in her hand and pray that it's not mine.

"And District's Seven female tribute is Primrose Everdeen!" Aiola announces, proudly.

My heart stops. Prim. Was the another Primrose Everdeen in District Seven? Everdeen couldn't be that uncommon a name, right? But then my sister appears, being dragged onto the stage by two buff peacekeepers. I manage to get out of the crowd.

"I volunteer!" I scream, without even thinking about how this was probably going to kill me. Every eye in the audience turns towards me.

"I volunteer as tribute," I says, as calmly as I could, even though my legs feel like jello.

"No!" Prim screams, "Katniss!"

I take a step forwards, the crowd clears before I barely move. Suddenly, there are two peacekeepers at my side, pulling me along to the stage. I walk up to Aiola, who was gesturing me to come towards her.

"A volunteer! How rare!" She exclaims. I search the crowd, before seeing Mom. She's crying and so is Prim.

"So tell me, who are you?" She asks.

I still, remembering that I was onstage, "Katniss Everdeen."

"Was that your little sister you just volunteered for?" She asks, excitedly.

"Yes," I tell her. My voice sounds hollow.

"Well isn't that just so honourable!" Aiola squeals. She waits for an applause, but she gets a crowd for people with three fingers in the air. It's a symbol of respect. Aiola looks bewildered at the crowd. "Now, for the males," she says, trying to get the crowd at attention.

She puts on the same show for choosing another piece of paper, "Rilien Keys!" She yells.

A short guy, fifteen years old or so begins slowly walking up to the stage. He has bright red hair that's cropped short and his eyes are a dull brown. Rilien is short, but he, like most of District Seven, has strong muscles from chopping down trees.

"District Seven's tributes for the 74th Hunger Games!" Aiola shouts, as Rilien and I shake hands. No sooner are we herded off to the Justice Building to say our last goodbyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I'm pushed into a drab looking room and the door is closed behind me. I don't bother looking around. I still have this room etched in my mind from the last time I'd been here. I sit on the couch. Two years ago, I was in the exact same place, but my best friend was sitting next to me. We spent a minute in silence. I had never seen Travier like he was that day, weak and hopeless. When I asked him if he would come back, all Travier did was shake his head. But a second after, he turned back into the Travier I knew, the one who was happy go lucky with a hundred dollar smile. He quickly told me about all the best vendors to go to, what price I should sell them at. He was talking so quickly that I barely caught a word of what he was saying. But then, two minutes later we both heard the heavy stomps of the peacekeeper's boots. Travier grabbed me and hugged me. Told me to survive, not to let his death keep me down. He tried to say something else, but I was thrown out of the room and the door was closed in my face. The last thing I remember is seeing Travier through a crack in the door as it closed. His dark eyes were flashing with desperation and sorrow.

A sharp knock takes me out of my thoughts. My Mother and Prim come through the door. Prim is full out crying, but Mom is trying to act brave. Prim hugs me, "You'll win, right?" Prim asks, her face in my dress.

"The odds are twenty four to one, Prim. I might not," I warn her. That causes Prim to cry harder.

"I don't care, Katniss! You have to win! You go hunting a lot, you know how to fight," She tells me.

I think of Travier, how he didn't bother to lie to me. He told me straight out that he was going to die. I open my mouth to do the same, but somehow Prim makes me stutter, "I'll try," I tell her. Prim starts crying again.

"We'll be watching you, supporting you alright Sweetie," Mom says me, before joining Prim in the hug.

"Thank you," I respond.

Suddenly, I hear the clunk of heavy boots outside. It's like I'm thirteen again, desperate for this moment to never end. The boots make me freeze.

"Time's up!" A peacekeeper yells, barging into the small room. Mom lets go of me reluctantly, but the peacekeeper has to drag Prim away from me, kicking and screaming.

"Katniss! Katniss!" Her screams echo down the hall. The door closes, but I see Prim's bright blue eyes staring at me until it shuts. I feel tears running down my face. What would happen to my family if I died? Would Mom shut down again and force Prim to leave school to bring home the extra profit?

Someone knocks at the door, "Hello?" Cecily asks, entering the small room.

"Hi," I wipe the tears off my face. I know I look like a mess, but I can't care less right now. I have bigger things to worry about.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," She tells me, truthfully.

"You couldn't of changed anything," I tell her, still wondering why she's even visiting me. We're friends, but not what anyone would call close.

"Still," She says, "That was amazing what you did for your sister."

"Your siblings would of done it too," I say.

Cecily shakes her head, "No. It was nice to pretend that even if my name was pulled, nothing would happen to me, but my family's a bunch of self serving cowards. None of them even came to the ceremony."

I hear the sound of boots coming near again. The sound sends my heart racing. Cecily looks nervously towards the door as they get closer.

"This isn't goodbye, right?" She asks.

I don't answer.

I can see the hope crash down in her eyes, "Well, bye then, I guess," She says, giving me a little hug as she nears the door. The peacekeeper opens it and Cecily ducks underneath his arm and into the hallway.

I just stare at her back as it disappears from the doorway.

I gaze at the scenery for the next forty five minutes as the clock ticks down. The forest outside my windows calms me down. I want nothing more than to just open the window, hop through it and escape into the woods. I wonder if anyone will find my bow and arrow, still hidden in the hollow log outside of the fence. No one except for my family and a few less than legitimate venders know about my hunting skills. My Dad was an avid hunter, who taught me too. I tried to teach Prim once, but she started bawling as soon as she realized the rabbit I just shot was dinner.

Finally, a peacekeeper shows up to escort me to the train, where I'd head to the Capitol.

* * *

Everyone's waiting for me to get on board. Rilien's sitting in a chair, unmoving with a blank expression. Johanna and Blight are having a hushed conversation, while Aiola paints her nails a bright blue colour that clashed with her dress, while eating a bowl of soup.

A awful clang sounds and the next thing I knew, Johanna's hands are around my neck and Blight's on his feet, alert and ready to kill someone. Both victors are breathing heavily, each of them ready to move and run away.

"Hey!" Rilien shouts, tackling Johanna off me. Johanna grabs a spare knife off the table and just before she can stab him, Blight crashes into her and pins her to the wall.

"Johanna. Calm down. Your out. This isn't the Games anymore. Calm down," Blight instructs, like it's an everyday thing. Johanna's still jumpy and as soon as he lets go of her, she runs out of the carriage.

I rub my neck, which I can tell will be bruised tomorrow. Rilien eyes the knife beside him carefully, while Aiola instructs an avox clean up her broken soup bowl.

"Sorry, about that," Blight says, not sounding sorry in the least, "She's not usually like that."

"I'm fine," Rilien says, immediately.

"Me too," I tell him, wincing as I talk. I can see why Johanna won her games.

"The repeats of the Reaping should be airing in five minutes or so," Blight tells us, "If ether of you want a chance of winning, I'd go."

"We'll be there," Rilien promises.

Blight nods and goes down the hallways leading to a room with a huge screen.

"So, Katniss, right?" He asks. I ignore him, I'm not in the mood to talk.

"I've saved your life already. How about we do an alliance for the games," He proposes.

I shake my head, I'm already going to be killing twenty three other teenagers, I don't need to kill one who I'm friends with.

"Alright then, no for now, tell me if you change your mind," Rilien declares, as he stands up and ventures towards the room Blight entered.

I don't move for the next few minutes, until I hear Blight yelling for me.

I arrive just in time to see the tributes from District One. Their girl, Glimmer, was the typical career girl. Beautiful, but she could kill you without a second thought. She had volunteered and is now smiling away at the cameras, flashing her blindingly white smile and waving.

Marvel, gah the names from District One are almost as bad as the Capitol ones, is the same, good looking and every once in a while he'd smile. I bet he gives that same smile to someone when he kills them.

District Two has the same types of tributes, beautiful and deadly. The girl was called Clove and the guy was Cato. Cato struck my eye. He has a dangerous glint in his eye that sends shivers down my spine. Cato smiles deviously at the cameras, staring through them right at me.

Three is next, both weedy sixteen year olds who seem equally terrified. Following them is District Four, who are practically carbon copies of 1 and 2. I don't catch their names though.

"You guys should try to join the career pack. Show them how good you are with an axe and they'll let you. Just remember to get out of there before it's only the careers left," Blight instructs. He sounds like he was reading from a instruction booklet. I wonder how many tributes he gave the exact same speech to.

Sometimes, a District Seven tribute joins the careers, but it's was mainly a matter of pride. Seven knows how to wild an axe, so our skill and knowledge of trees and climbing are useful to the careers, or at least useful enough that they would let us join.

Five has a impish girl around my age with a fox like face and a short thirteen year as well. I stop paying attention, until I hear a loud sigh from Rilien. I look at the screen, where a twelve year old is walking up. She's from District Eleven. It's not a good combination. I think back to Prim, how the little twelve year old girl could of just as easily been her if I hadn't volunteered. I sends shivers down my spine.

After her is the male District Eleven tribute, a guy who looks like he could crush me with one hand. He's eighteen and Blight warns us to stay away from him. The girl tribute is a good two and a half feet shorter than the guy. She looks at him with big, nervous eyes. He looks back at her and gives her the slightest of smiles.

District Twelve comes on and I feel sorry for them. They have half the population of our's which means twice the chance of being reaped. Twelve is also the poorest district and the Capitol does their best to make sure their lives stay miserable.

The female tribute, Jhoda Reeds gets called up. She's fourteen or so, with a nervous look about her. The way she moves makes her seem jumpy and uncertain. She starts to cry mid way to the stage.

Once the male tribute was announced, Peeta Mellark, the crowd isolates a blond haired man, who looks about my age. He has dirty blond hair which manages to fall into his blue eyes. He walks to the stage nervously, but makes a better entrance than Jhoda had. He looks into the camera for just a millisecond, before the screen goes dark.

I just look at the dark screen. In less than a weeks time, half of these people will be dead. And there's a good chance I'll be one of them.

* * *

So that's chapter 3 done. Hope you liked.

And special thanks to Crystals of Ice for pointing out that I was spelling Johanna wrong for the first two chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So, you'll be seeing all the tributes in person soon enough, but I'm going to tell you that you shouldn't make friends with anyone else but each other. I've seen too many alliances end with a knife in a back. District Eleven shouldn't be too much, but don't hurt the twelve year old. Don't give the male one a reason to kill you," Blight instructs us.

Johanna joins us and Blight clears a spot on the plush sofa for her. I touch my aching neck as she sits down next to me.

"Arrival in five minutes," A voice sounds over an intercom.

"Joy," Johanna mutters, bitterly. Johanna was surprising me. She was nothing like the Capitol's image of victors that was broadcasted everywhere. The cool, calm and collected version being bathed in riches and praises. Johanna looked miserable, even worse than some people I'd passed earlier on in Seven.

"So whose most likely this year?" She asks Blight.

"Careers look good, so does the male from 11," he tells her.

I shift in discomfort as they talk about whose most likely going to kill us. It was nice to see how much faith they had.

Johanna nods, before turning to us, "So, any special talents that probably won't save your life?" her voice was full of dismissal.

"I'm good with an axe," Rilien tells her, looking prideful.

Johanna mocks surprise, "And your from District Seven? The lumber district? No way! I meant any special talents that the other tributes don't know."

"Chess?" Rilien says, though it sounded like a question.

"Your plan is to survive the Hunger Games with your chess skills," Johanna deadpans, before saying to me, "So can Ms volunteer do anything useful?"

I narrow my eyes at her. Johanna was pissing me off and suddenly, I don't care that a lot of my activities were illegal, "I jump the fence, kill animals with a bow and sell them to black market shopkeepers."

Blight stares worriedly at the camera in the corner of the room, while Johanna cocks an eyebrow, "Hunter then, huh. How good?" She asks.

"I've been doing it for since I was eleven," I tell her. Rilien sits on the corner of the couch staring at me.

"You're a criminal! And I was going to ally myself with you!" He sounds shocked.

"You're going into an arena with twenty three other teenagers and you are going to kill some of them if you plan on staying alive. You're already a fucking criminal!" Johanna yells at him. Rilien storms out and I could hear Aiola reprimand him for yelling.

"Now, back to you," Johanna says, "I didn't ask how long you've been doing it, I asked if you were good."

I ponder for a minute. I'm good at hitting animals, the last time I missed a squirrel I was thirteen, "I'm good."

Johanna shoots Blight a smile, a vicious scary looking one "Then we may have a chance this year."

* * *

"Arriving now," The intercom reports. I gaze out the huge window and look at the Capitol. The buildings block out the sun. I remember being a kid and thinking trees were the tallest thing in the world. Whenever I climbed one, I'd just sit on the highest branch and stare down at everyone. I could see anything the branches, my house, the forest, even the other side of the fence, but here, the buildings touched the sky. I had to strain my neck to look all the way up to the top. The trees I climbed up when I was little, they were nothing compared to this.

The streets are spotless and the houses are all huge and colourful. I can spot multiple cars in huge driveways. Cars are a rarity in Seven. Only the merchants and the mayor have one, but here, they line the streets. There's a fountain every two blocks, sending water up four, five meters high. I see a few little kids, laughing and playing in them, while their parents watch out of the corner of their eye. We only had one fountain in Seven, right in front of the mayor's office. I remember when I threw Prim into it as a joke. She smelled like sewer for a week.

Even stranger, each person is wearing a bizarre ensemble of clothing. One man has a bright blue moustache that was sticking straight up, rising a foot above his head. Another girl wears a skirt that flares out so much a man walking two meters away trips over it. Even the children ware dressed in fancy clothing. As soon as they see the train, they all began to cheer and wave. Blight waves at them, but Johanna doesn't move a muscle, just steps away from the view line. I look through the glass.

"Wave," Blight orders, a scarily bright smile on his lips. I look at the crowd, they seem overjoyed that Blight even looks them, but most of the attention is on me. They stare, completely transfixed, as if seeing me is like winning the lottery.

"No, why would I?" I ask. These people had brought me here to die and they expect me to treat them nicely.

"Sponsors," Blight replies.

"If I'm going to die in less than a week, I don't want to pretend I'm grateful," I tell him.

"Get over your ego and do it," Johanna tells me, "My games would of been a hell of a lot easier if I had some sponsors."

I remain on my seat, but I force my face in to a smile. A lot of the crowd smile back. It's creepy the effect a small body movement had on this many people.

Finally, the train ride ends and we end up in a room without the Capitol citizens.

I leave the carriage and Blight follows.  
"Now you're going to the stylists. It's a free spa and the Capitol only uses the best equipment for their tributes," Aiola says.

I'm brought to an empty room where I'm told to wait and get I've stripped and put on the robe, I notice a weird shape in my dress' pocket. I pull it out and let our a breath of relief. It was the mocking jay pin.

"Hello Katniss," A lady says to me. I hide the pin behind my back. Two more people follow her inside. The first lady has half her hair dyed a strange purple colour and the a lime green. She wears a lot of makeup, making her face look like a rainbow.

The second one has tattoos covering every bit of skin. A bunch of colourful swirls that ran across her entire body and bald head, even her eyelids had little swirls on them.

Lastly is a guy, with piercings everywhere. They range in colour and shape, but they're all huge and ornate. He has a tattoo across his forehead that reads : Sheep, in fancy script. I don't know what it means, but if he's happy with it, it doesn't really matter.

They rinse me over what seems like a billion times, making me smell like a bunch of weird flowers. They waxe every inch of hair except for my head and paint my nails. Finally, they leave me alone and I'm back in the empty room, with nothing but a robe and a mockingly pin.

Soon enough, the stylist comes in. She's wearing what has to be a wig, with braids of different colours and styles overlapping each other to form an elaborate hairdo. Her skin is tinged pink and her eyes are an unnatural yellow.

"Hello Katniss!" She exclaims, in the same chipper and irritating Capitolian accent as Aiola, "Welcome to the Hunger Games!"

I'm sick of everyone acting so happy about the murder of twenty three people, no one but Johanna, Blight and Rilien has anything negative to say about them.

"I'm Aery and today I'll be dressing you up for the chariots!" She announces, like I'm a kindergartener.

I try to listen as she describes the outfit I'll be wearing, but I already know that I'm going to be a tree or a woodcutter. Hopefully I won't be as unlucky as the the ones who got dressed up as axes. I almost laugh out loud as I remember the female's long hair dyed silver and put up in a two foot long mohawk for the blade.

* * *

Chapter 4 is finished! Thanks for reading, feel free to comment or criticize, everything helps.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Aery helps me put on the outfit, smiling dopily and telling me how stunning I'll look once the costume is on and just as I thought, I'm a tree. I can't even see the edges of the branches in the mirror, it's so huge. For a moment, I wonder how I'll be able to fit inside the chariot.

"That looks amazing!" She exclaims, leading me out of the room, carefully directing me around the doorway. I smile to myself as one of the highest branches clips the ceiling, breaking it off. Aery luckily doesn't notice.

"Where are we going?" I ask her, almost tripping over my roots.

"To the stables, of course!" She announces, as she keeps walking me towards them. I catch sight of a few other tributes in outfits just as bad as mine. The fox faced girl from Five is dressed as a power plant, complete with a metallic silver dish around her head and the boy from Four is a six foot tall, brilliantly blue fish.

"Beautiful as always, Aery," Blight remarks, upon seeing me.

"Yes, this year I tried to incorporate more of a leafy style," She explains, waving her hands at a branch, before she catches the attention of one of her friends.

Once Aery wanders away, Blight says, "She does this every year. Johanna just ripped hers in half once her parade was done."

I raise an eyebrow, "Actually?" But I'm interrupted by a blond man that comes crashing into me.

He looks familiar enough, probably a victor form a earlier game, with sunken in eyes and blond hair that was a bit all over the place. He's completely hammered.

"Haymitch!" Blight warns, shoving him off me. Haymitch, the name rings a bell.

"Oh Blight, whats good?" he asks, teetering dangerously to the side. Blight grabs his bicep to straighten him up.

I look behind him, where the male tribute form Twelve stands. He's wearing a skin tight black catsuit with a big cape on the other end. He sees my eye contact as an invitation to talk and I almost run away from him.

"District Seven?" He asks.

I gesture to the trunk, "What gave it away?"

He cracks a smile.

"Twelve, right?" I ask, even though I already knew.

"Kinda obvious isn't it," he remarks.

I shrug, "It's not as bad as the time you were pieces of coal."

He groans, "I was crossing my fingers that it wouldn't happen," Before dropping to a whisper, "How do these people get hired?"

I chuckle, "Did you see Four?"

"The walking fish was hard to miss," He jokes, "I'm Peeta," he tells me.

"Katniss," I respond, before Blight pulls me away form him.

"What are you doing!" He demands.

"What? I can't talk to people now?" I reply, angrily.

"You can't make friends, because that boy may be the one standing in the way of you and your survival!" Blight says, sounding mad.

He leads me over to the chariot, where Rilien and Johanna are waiting. I feel a sliver of satisfaction when I see his costume. His stylist had obviously thought his red hair clashed with the greenery and had dyed it an awful seaweed green colour.

"What's got you in the awful mood?" Johanna asks Blight.

"Katniss here, decided to make friends with 12," He tells her, scowling at me.

Johanna frowns at me and she and Blight walk away form us and start to whisper to each other. Rilien and I spend the the rest of the time in awkward silence, until Aiola herds us into the chariot.

"Wave, smile and act nice, Katniss I'm talking to you," She orders us. I glare at her, but nodded.

Aiola gives us both a sickeningly sweet smile, "Good luck."

Once she leaves, I attach the mockingjay pin to my outfit. Rilien looks confused, but he doesn't ask anything about it.

I see the District One chariot take off. I hear the crowds just seconds away form us erupt into cheers. One by one, each chariot takes off.

Caesar Flickerman's announcements are loud and clear, "And here comes the shining jewels of the Districts, introducing District One! We can thank their stylist, Lavania and Biggus for their beautiful costumes tonight! On our left we have Glimmer and can I say her name does fit her dress. Marvel is beside her, showing off an outfit that definitely shows off his assets. Women of the Capitol, pay attention! District Two coming out now, is everyone ready?"

I see six chariots leave and suddenly, it's our turn. We're out of the stables and my mouth drops open. It's blinding. The crowds, the sun light everything. People scream names. I can't make anything out, because so many people yell. Roses fall to the ground and the horses, thankfully, aren't at all fazed, maintaining a steady clop clop. Rilien is already smiling and waving before I even start. Just when we're about halfway to the end, I hear a huge gasp and some cries of horror. I look behind me, to see District Twelve's tributes on fire. Not just painted like a flame, they're actually on fire, but they were both smiling away, even though the girl was holding onto the handle like her life depended on it.

"Don't look back," Rilien tells me, sounding annoyed. I kick him, but start waving and smiling again. Nothing works. Everyone watches District 12.

Once we pull in, President Snow, starts his speech. The flames extinguish as he starts speaking.

"Hello and welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games!" President Snow declares. The moment he starts speaking, the entire stadium goes quiet.

I look over the rest of the tributes. Six doesn't look very threatening and neither does Eight, but after Johanna's performance no one doubts anyone else again. I remember the year after Johanna, a girl from Ten tried the same strategy and the careers hunted her down quicker than anyone else.

"And may the odds be ever in your favour!" President Snow declares with a cold smile, ending his speech with the famous quote. I laugh at that. The odds are never in anyone's favour. Prim only had her name in there once and it could of easily been her standing where I was right now. Travier had his name in thirty times before he was reaped. The only ones who has the odds in their favour is the Capitol.

The horses lead us back to the stables.

"Good job you two,"Aiola says, excitedly.

"If you hadn't been trees, you might of even pulled it off," Johanna remarks, scathingly.

"No need to be rude, Johanna," Aiola tells her, sternly, "I think the Aery did an especially good job this year. Have you noticed how she made the costume leafier? I think it adds something the Capitol is sure to notice."

Johanna rolls her eyes, before heading to the elevator. I come with her. District 12 was waiting there too and when it came, we all rode up together.

Peeta smiles at me and I nod back.

"Did you get burned?" Johanna asks Haymitch, gesturing to the costumes.

"District 2 wants us to burn, that's for sure," He tells her, "I love how your stylist can so easily capture the spirit of your district," He finishes, sarcastically.

"They captured it so well they've redone it every year," I mutter.

Haymitch chuckles, "Hilarious, Sweetheart."

The elevator opens it doors at floor seven and I walk into it.

"Well that was a disaster," Johanna remarks.

"We've been trees for the past twenty two years," I tell her.

"Yeah but we've all had stupid costumes, but Twelve is done with coal miners and pieces of coal now," She says, "And you saw the way the crowd cheered for them, they're going to be fan favourites for sure."

* * *

Alright, so 5 is finished. I hope everyone enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The bedroom I'm staying in probably costs more money than my entire house and the closet is loaded with so many outfits, it's probably taken hundreds of dollars to fill. Every fabric was soft and top quality, but a lot of it was stuff I would never wear, either too formal, or too complicated. Eventually, I settle on a light cream colour top and some darker pants. They're light, feeling almost like air. Back at Twelve, all the clothing is heavy, dark and hand made. Here, the stitches are so small I can hardly see them. I've only seen clothing like this on Cecily, who was also one of the richer girls in the district, but even her fabrics seem like something I'd find in a dumpster compared to this.

By the time I get back to the main apartment, the food is already on the table. I had never seen this much food in my life. There's a full pig, cooked, of course, even with an apple stuck in it's mouth, with condiments covering it that I never even heard of, like Saffron and Pijme. They taste amazing, but I can barely eat any of it, they're so rich. Dessert comes along and my mouth drops open. It's a three story chocolate cake, with icing covering every inch of it. I take a slice, but I can't even come close to finishing it. In the end, with all five us eating a slice, there's still two stories of the cake left.

Aiola looks at it with vague indifference, "Pity it was served last, don't you agree?" Then, her face lights up, "Does anyone want more? I'm sure we have some Orange in here."

"An orange?" Rilien asks, "I'd like one."

Aiola smiles at him, "Oh good! Joanna?"

She shakes her head with a look of disgust, "I'll pass." Gee, wonder what made her hates oranges?

Aiola's spirit doesn't damper, "Either of you?"

Both Blight and I shake our heads. I'm so full I can't even imagine somehow fitting an orange into my stomach. Aiola stands up and begins going through the cupboards. Finally, she pulls out a ornate glass bottle filled to the brim with neon orange liquid inside. She pours it into two small glasses and flashes a brilliantly white smile, "There we go, problem solved!"

She hands one to Rilien, who looks at it suspiciously, "There's no alcohol in here, right?"

Aiola laughs like it's the funniest thing she's heard, "Of course not!"

Rilien is still eyeing the glass, but he ends up bring it to his mouth to drink.

"Oh no, Rilien," Aiola explains, "Don't drink it here, go to the bathroom!"

"The bathroom? Why would I do that?"

"Silly me, sometimes I forget just how uncivilized the districts are. It makes you sick, Rilien. So that you can enjoy more cake."

He slams the drink back onto the table, "Why would I poison myself!"

"So you can eat more cake," She explains, slowly. She has genuine bafflement on her face.

Rilien shakes his head, "I'm not drinking this."

AIola shrugs, "Oh well. If you don't mind, I'll excuse myself." She takes her neon orange drink off the table and takes it to the bathroom with her.

Blight coughs loudly, sarcasm laces his voice, "Now that the lovely Aiola has left, we have more important things to discuss. Strategies, for the training centre," He clarifies.  
Rilien and I nod.

"You have three days to gain any skill you want. Use the axes to impress the careers and Katniss, I'm assuming that you're not joining them?" Blight asks.

I nod.

Blight doesn't look happy with my choice, but he doesn't mention anything, "Don't use the bow then, alright," He told me, "No one will expect someone from Seven to be able to shoot."

"And go for the climbing skills and survival skills, alright, we all know we don't need another joke about a tribute from Seven falling to their death from a tree," Johanna tells us.

"That's never actually happened before though," Rilien states. He freezes and scrunches up his nose as we all hear Aiola's retching noises. He moves the orange drink further away from him.

"Tell that to Coren Millington's district partner," Blight says, "And don't stay too close to the weapon training. You can already use an ax."

"Right. I'm exhausted, so I'm going to bed," Rilien declares, pushing his chair back and heading up the stairs. It sounds like a good idea, so I follow.

* * *

Two hours later, I still can't get to sleep. I hear some movement from the living room, so I investigate. I find Johanna staring at a pristine white envelope on the table. She looks nothing like the feisty quick witted victor I know. Johanna sits on the couch, looking defeated. She is wearing elaborate makeup and a tight, short red dress on. She doesn't look Johanna, instead, she just looks like a Capitol woman. If it wasn't for me knowing her, I could easily dismiss her as just another face in the crowd.

The second I made a noise, she looks at me, all alert. The illusion is broken, gone is the Capitolian woman and Johanna the victor is back. She relaxes a second later, "Katniss. Go to sleep," She orders, "You'll need it."

"Is there anywhere I can go, other than, you know, here?" I asks.

Johanna sighs, "You're on lockdown, but the roof is generally clear. There's a field around it though, so don't try to jump."

How many tributes had tried to jump to their death before the Games? "Thanks," I tell her, heading to the roof.

Just like Johanna promised, the roof is empty. I go up to the edge and just look down. There is the busy Capitol, cars speed around, people crowd to place to place and every direction I look has a party going on. They're all loud and wild, but from thirteen stories high in the air, I can't hear a thing. I just sit on the ledge for an hour, staring at the Capitol, wondering if the field Johanna told me about really exists. With my legs dangling over the streets below, it feels, for the first time since the Reaping started, that I can control my fate. It's an illusion, because the forcefield probably a meter below my feet and I wouldn't jump, even if there was no forcefield, because I have a family relying on my survival. I watch as the moon rises higher and higher into the sky and I decide to go back to the apartment.

Unlike how it was before, nothing in the tribute centre is moving, except me. It's dark too, without the natural sunlight lighting up the centre. I press the 7 button on the elevator and wait until I reached my floor.

Johanna had disappeared, so I walked to my bedroom and slept. It was one of the best sleeps I every got.

* * *

Yay, another chapter is finished!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6

When I wake up, there isn't a pain in my neck from the pillows, or an untrustworthy stain on the sheets. I makes me feel uncomfortable, even though it really shouldn't. Honestly, the cleanliness and beauty of of my bedroom should put me at ease, make me feel happy, but instead I feel alien, stuck on a planet I don't even understand the language of.

"Get up!" someone yells through the door, interrupting my thoughts.

"In a minute!" I call back, still half asleep.

"You have an hour before the training centre opens," The person tells me.

I sigh, but manage to motivate myself into getting out of bed.

Breakfast is the same as supper with food piled high on the table. Rilien feasts, carefully loading pancake after pancake onto his plate, but after the bloated feeling I felt the other night, I'm not so motivated. Blight eats with us, but Johanna isn't there.

"Where's Johanna?" Rilien asks, piling on his fifth pancake, a hungry look in his eyes.

"Sleeping," Blight responds.

"Isn't she supposed to be mentoring us?" He remarks, reaching for the butter.

"Lay off," Blight orders.

Rilien doesn't sound very happy about it, but he does. I watch as he dumps a bucket of a dark sauce onto them. It spills over the edge and cascades onto the plate. I can tell it's going to overflow, but I can tell Rilien doesn't care.

"See this, Katniss?" He asks, pointing at the sauce, "It's what the Capitol makes with the sap we collect." Rilien cuts a piece of pancake off and drowns it in the sauce, "It's delicious."

I dip my spoon into some of the extra sauce on his plate and ate some. Sweetness filled my mouth.

"So this is what the Capitol does then, takes something we made and serves it themselves," I mutter.

Once we'd finish, Blight leads us to the training centre.

"It closes at five, so don't waste time," He tells us, before opening the doors and leaving.

"Shouldn't he be training us?" Rilien asks.

"Probably," I respond, scanning the centre. Everyone's there. The career districts are showing off, killing targets with impeccable skill. I feel drawn to the bow and arrow, but I remember Blight's advice to avoid them. Hesitantly, I turn away from them.

"I'm going to the axes, try to get with the careers," Rilien tells me. I nod and look around the training centre for something to do. There's about two dozen different weapon stations, a few survival stations and even a climbing net. I head to the climbing net, there's a few ropes wrapped around the tree. I won't need them to climb it, but it would be an easy thing to start on.

Just before I start climbing, I notice Peeta stadning next to a nearby tree, a pallet of brown paints next to him and a paintbrush in his hand. His left hand and forearm look like brown mush.

I walk over to him, "Why the painting?" I ask. Painting can't effect your survival ability. It can't make sure your food isn't poisoned or kill another tribute.

Peeta grins at me, "Look," He says, lifting the hand he'd been painting on. He puts it against the fake tree. His hand blends expertly into the complicated wood pattern, matching it almost perfectly.

"How do you do that?" I ask.

"Back in Twelve, my parents own a bakery and I decorated the cakes," He tells me. There's a sadness in his voice and a remorseful look in his blue eyes.

"Huh, so your a baker then," I say.

"Yeah, I have some great baking skills that will definitely help me win in the arena," He tells me, bitterly.

"Well if you need to ice a cake, you're practically guaranteed to win," I tell him.

Peeta sighed, "Yeah."

"If you teach me how to do that, I can teach you how to build a fire," I propose.

Peeta nods, "That would be great." He takes my hand and presses it to the tree, "Now what you need to do first is understand the pattern of the tree."

* * *

By the end of our little session, I can make a hand look like a tree, from a far enough distance. I'm nowhere near Peeta's level of skill, but it's still something.

"Fire now?" He ask. I nod and walk over to the station, with Peeta in tow.

The girl from Eleven, the little twelve year old was at the station too. She listens to my instructions using them, trying to pretend that she's figuring it out for herself. I don't mind, she's going to need every advantage she had.

"You volunteered, right?" Peeta asks, rubbing the flint against a stone, "Why?"

I shrug, "I couldn't let Prim die."

He looks up, "Prim?"  
"My sister. She's only twelve. There was no way she'd even stand a chance in the games, she started crying once when I told her the rabbit we bought from the market was for supper," I tell him, a faint smile playing on my lips, "What about you?"

Peet shrugs, "Not much to tell. Got reaped, sent here." He's bitter about it, I can tell but I don't press it.

Peeta and I end up sticking together for the rest of the day, all the way until five o'clock, when the centre closes. We reach the seventh floor in no time and just as the doors close again, with only Peeta in it, they reopen.

"Peeta?" I ask, "The twelfth floor is five more floors up."

"Do you want to do this again?" he asks in a rush.

"Don't see why not," I respond, before the doors close and he flies off to the penthouse.

I walk back into the apartment, where Blight, Johanna and Aiola wait with a huge pile of food.

"Where Rilien?" I ask. I'd seen him talking to the careers when Peeta and I were leaving.

"No idea," Blight responds.

I sit down on one of the luxurious chairs the Capitol offers and reach for some meat dipped in red, delicious smelling source, until I hear a cough. Aiola glares at me. I try to take it, but Aiola coughs again.

"What?" I ask.

"No food until everyone's at the table," She says, sternly.

"Aiola, come on, I haven't eaten in hours, I'm hungry," I tell her.

"And leave Rilien to come back here to an empty table with half eaten food?" She says with more dignity then I though anyone could have.

I look at Johanna and Blight, "You can't be taking this seriously."

"Aiola has been with us for many years. Take it seriously," Blight orders, though I can see a slight smile on his face. I spot Johanna dipping her finger into a sauce and managing to lick it off before Aiola even notices she moved.

I sigh, at home we never had any rules like that. If there's food on the table, you eat. Of course, you wouldn't eat it all, often enough I didn't eat enough so that Prim could have more. Mom did that too, but not nearly as often as I did.

Every once in a while, just to piss Aiola off, I reach for something. Each time, her coughs get louder and louder, until she has an actual coughing fit. By the end of that, Johanna is smirking and Blight is muttering about immature tributes.

When Rilien finally makes an appearance, everyone chows down.

"What took you so long," Blight demands.

"I was talking with the careers," He tells us, with a bite of chicken in his mouth. Aiola coughs loudly, glaring pointedly at his chicken and Rilien apologizes to her, sarcastically.

"Good," Johanna says, "Just don't become too friendly with them."

"Are you allies then?" I ask.

Rilien nods slowly, like he's unsure of himself, "I think so, I mean they don't shot me death glares anymore."

That's probably as good as it's going to get for a non career tribute.

"And Katniss? Allying with the careers?" Blight ask.

I shake my head, "They aren't particularly impressed with me. Spent most of the day doing survival skills."

"Most of the day?" Rilien snorts, "The guy from twelve was teaching you how to paint your arm for at least an hour!"

"The one you met with Haymitch?" Blight asks.

"The drunk guy?" I ask.

"That'd be him," Blight responds.

"The guy's name is Peeta," I tell them.

Blight bits his lip, "Don't spend too much time with him, alright?"

"Why?" I ask, doubtfully.

"Only one comes out, Katniss. And if it's him versus you at the end, well I'd rather it be you than him," Blight tells me.

"Fine," I lie. We'd already made plans and the likelihood of him and I surviving to last two were so small it would never happen anyways. I'd probably get killed on the first day and Peeta would die in the bloodbath.

Blight doesn't look convinced and we spend the rest of supper in silence.

Once I'd excuse myself, I go up to the roof. It's my favourite spot in the city, which wasn't saying much considering I've barely left the training centre. The hard wind pushes my hair in my face and the cold air makes me shiver. I sit on the edge of the building, with my legs just hanging there, over the busy Capitol road. I stay up there for a few hours, just watching the moon rising. I had noticed the absence of stars last night I'd been up here, but I blamed it on a cloudy night, but tonight, it was clear, but still, no stars appeared. The Capitol even found a way to ruin the sky.

I must of fallen asleep on the rooftop, because when I open my eyes again, the moon is on the other side of the sky. I go back to my room and lay on the plush bed. It doesn't feel right, there's absolutely nothing wrong with the Capitol, the hot water is endless and the beds are perfectly made every time I arrive, but in the districts, you had the fight tooth and nail to even get enough food to last a month. It isn't fair, but then again, there isn't anything we could do about it.

* * *

Alright, so I hope you enjoyed thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The second day of training was a lot like the first. Someone woke me up, I headed to breakfast, then Rilien and I set off for the training centre. Peeta and I met up and we toured around the stations, until five o'clock, when I went back to the apartment.

"Again tomorrow?" I ask.

Peeta nods, before the elevator doors close and bring him to the twelfth floor. I sit down for supper a minute before Rilien arrives and I scarf down the food.

"Tomorrow's the last day of training. You have a private training session with the game makers the day after. It's incredibly important, how well you do could be the difference between survival and death. You're District Seven, so expect the game makers to be slightly drunk. They will pay attention to you, but not for too long. Make yourself look better, use only your best skills," Blight instructs, before Johanna interrupts.

"Short story, get their attention and surprise them. You'll get a decent score if you do the basic axe skills, but you'll get an amazing one if you can get them shocked."

"Or," Blight says, shooting Johanna a small glare, "You'll ruin your chance of getting sponsors forever."

"Katniss, use the arrows, if you're as good as you claim to be and Rilien, use the fancy tricks. The game makers aren't trained to know the most efficient way to kill someone with an axe, so make a show out of it, alright?" Johanna instructs.

Rilien and I nod, before I head out to the roof and climb back into the plush bed.

* * *

The next day, I wake up earlier than normal, getting to breakfast before anyone else. I can hear screaming coming from Rilien's room and he comes in a few minutes later, shaking and red eyed. Aiola gets mad at me for ignoring her no eating until everyone's at the table rule, but she gets over it.

Rilien and I enter the elevator and make our way to the training 're the third pair there. The girl from Five is doing a sort of plant identifying activity and the people from One are having a competition on who could kill the most dummies. I settle next to the snare station. The instructor smiles at me, before explaining how to construct one large enough to catch someone's leg. Peeta joins me around halfway through. The instructor looks confused at our friendship, but she carries on.

"Katniss!" Rilien yells, from the other side of the room.

"I'll be back," I tell Peeta, walking over to Rilien. He looks short and scrawny, surrounded by the tall careers.

"What?" I ask.

"The careers, they're deciding their kill order," He tells me. I shudder at the thought. All the Careers are close to each other, murmuring harsh whispers. I can see them stare at someone once in a while, either baring their teeth or shaking their heads.

"So?" I ask, not bothering to hide my disgust, "You want my advice on who gets the knife in their heart first?"

Rilien shakes his head, looking a bit green at the thought. "Get your friend, the one from Twelve to do something. He's one of the first on their lists," He turns away form me, back to the careers, who are all laughing at something.

I stalk back to Peeta, "Throw that weight," I order.

"Katniss? What?" Peeta asks me, "Why?"

"I've seen your muscles, you can throw it, easily," I tell him.

Peeta stands up, he looks a bit mad, "Haymitch said not to show off my skills."

"The careers are making a kill list and apparently, you're one of the first on the lists," I inform him.

Peeta narrows his eyes at me, "And this isn't just a way to get me to show my strengths, is it?" He accuses.

I freeze, a sudden sense of anger washing over me, "If you don't want my help, go die then. See if I care!" I shout as I go to the axe station. I pull out an axe and begin swinging it around. He thinks our friendship is just a ploy for him to give up his strengths? A quick slash and a dummy head falls onto the floor.

Not that it matters, Peeta is going to die on the first day, in the bloodbath. Another head falls onto the floor with a crash. He better die bloody, preferably with one of District 2's knives in his chest. I smash the axe into where the heart would be. I try to pull it out, but it's stuck.

I turned around, to see the careers staring at me, with what? Respect? Admiration? Fear? A few of the other tributes are staring at me too. Guess they didn't expect the girl from Seven obsessed with the survival stations to go serial killer on a pack of dummies. A few seconds later, I hear a loud bang. A weight has knocked a stand of spears to the ground. Peeta, who was ten, twelve feet away, had thrown it. Most of the attention has shifted to him now and I stalk to the knife throwing station, which I quickly realized I wasn't very good at.

I ride the elevator back to the apartment with Rilien. We don't talk and as soon as we get in the room, I head off to the bedroom. Johanna and Blight must of gotten the hint that I wasn't interested in supper. I wonder if Rilien told them what happened in the training centre, how I killed three dummies and managed to get my axe stuck in one. Eventually, I get hungry and head to the dining room, where Aiola sits, her plate empty in front of her. For all her flaws and terrible hairdos, at least she sticks by her set of manners.

"Excellent, you made it. I'm afraid the others were very hungry and ate like starved monkeys as soon as the food was ready, but I waited," She tells me. Aiola was probably planning my murder, but she hid it behind her chirpy exterior and wide smile.

"Thank you," I tell her, grabbing a breadstick. Aiola and I make small talk as we eat. We can't talk about much, she knows nothing about the Districts and I knew nothing about the Capitol, so we talk about the Games, so far. Which dessert has been tastier, how one of her pillows hadn't been fluffed and instructing me on how to use the shower without smelling like daffodils afterwards. I even laughed at some of her jokes, as shallow and dumb as they are. It makes me wonder if the Capitol isn't just full of nasty people, until I remember that it's her job to be my friend until I die.

* * *

Yay, another chapter finished! I hope everyone liked!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

After supper, I excuse myself and head up to the roof. Like always, it's empty. I walk over to the edge and sit down, hanging my legs over the edge. The streets below me are brightly lit. I can see people milling in on the sidewalks and cars speeding down the road. In Twelve, there isn't any light at night, not unless you count the candles, but here everything is bright, even if the sky isn't. It's unsettling.

"You gonna jump?" Someone asks from behind me. I flinch and stand up. Peeta's there. I glare at him, but he starts speaking.

"Look, Katniss. I know I did a dick move back there, but I like you, I really really like you and don't want to spend my last days with your hating me," He says in a rush.

I take a deep breath, with half a mind to yell at him some more, but at the same time I know I'll feel worse, "Fine," I say, reluctantly.  
Peeta smiles, "So, are you jumping?" He gestures to the edge I had just been sitting on.

I look back over the edge, "I can't. There's a forcefield and even if there wasn't, I still couldn't because if I die, my family probably goes with me."

"You volunteered for Prim, right?" He asks.

I nod, "She was only twelve, it wasn't fair."

"The Games are never fair," He says, bitterly.

"It doesn't matter. As long as twenty three of us die, the Capitol doesn't have to fear another rebellion," I tell him.

"Guess so. Some of the people in the Seam are always debating about running to the woods and never coming back. They never do it though, always too scared to do anything but dream about it. Looking back, I wish I'd managed to do it," Peeta remarks.

"What's the Seam?" I ask him.

"Part of Twelve. The poor part. Or the poorer part, I guess. There's one guy who had forty two tesserae in it," Peeta says.

"Forty two? That's not possible," I say. There's no way. I know Twelve is poorer than most districts, but even thirty tesserae in Seven is considered a death wish.

"True though," Peeta says. He sounds defeated, like Johanna did when I caught her with the letter the other night.

"Twelve sounds awful," I tell him.

"It is. Just the other month, we lost twenty five men to a mine explosion," Peeta tells me, regretfully.

"Wow."

A cold wind blows past us and I feel myself shivering.

"Do you want to go inside?" He asks.

I shake my head, "Come here," I point to a spot on the edge of the roof next to me. Peeta climbs on it.

"It's nice, isn't it?" I tell him.

Peeta nodded, staring at the ground that was so far away from us.

"Look at all the parties," He points a few of them out. They're bigger than the ones I saw on my first day. Louder too.

"Probably celebrating us," He says.

"That's sick."

"The entire Capitol is sick. They root for their favourites and cheer when they die. They see us as little chess pieces, that they can dress up and force to kill," Peeta explains

"Are we even humans to them? Or just animals? Or even less?" I ask.

"We're human to them, of course. But they like to see themselves as Gods," He responds.

I sigh and lean against him. He begins playing with my braid a bit. I look up at the starless sky.

"The Capitol even managed to ruin the sky," I mutter.

"I hope the games don't change me," Peeta says.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't want to become a killer, Katniss. I don't want them to change me," He tells me, truthfully.

I think about Prim and Mom, who'd probably starve to death unless I get back, "I can't afford to think like that."

Peeta shrug, "I won't let them."

"We should probably get back to bed," I say, but I'm not motivated to move.

"Probably," Peeta agrees, but he doesn't move either. We stay like that, together staring at the starless sky.

I think we fell asleep, because I wake up to yelling.

"Katniss? Katniss!" Johanna screams. I wake up alone. Peeta had probably gotten cold and went inside. I feel a tinge of hurt, but I brush it off.

"The private session starts in an hour!" She yells.

Right, the private session that could decide if I survive or die. Shit. Johanna and I run down to the apartment, where Blight looks ready to blow a gasket.

"Rilien's already down there! Get changed!"

I practically fly to my room, find another training outfit and put it on as quick as I can. I grab some strange bright yellow pastry, before running to the elevator.

Once I reach the waiting room, the voice calls in the fox faced girl from Five. I let out a sigh of relief as I sit next to Rilien.

"Where were you?" He asks, "I thought you might miss your session."

"Doesn't matter," I respond.

"Johanna and Blight were searching the entire centre for you. I could just ask them," Rilien tells me. I felt like slapping him, even if it's explicitly against the rules. Instead, I manage to satisfy myself with glaring at him. I redo my hairdo and watched as the number of tributes slowly dwindled down.

"Katniss Everdeen, District 7," A monotone voice over the intercom announces. I stand up. Peeta shoots me a thumbs up and I walk into the training centre. It's eerie how quiet the centre is without anyone else in it. Every step I take echoes down the room. The only activity is the game makers, who are partying in their small room. I spot the bow and arrow and walk over to them. I wait for the game makers to shut up about their pies and crap, before realizing that they haven't even noticed me walk into the room.

"Katniss Everdeen!" I yell at them, "District 7!" The game makers look at me as I prep the arrow. The string is different from what I'm used to and I pray it won't effect my aim. I draw the string back, aiming for the heart of the dummy. I hold my breath as I let it fly. Seeing where it lands, the game makers begin laughing, turning their attention back to the fat cooked pig that was just brought in. I stare at the arrow. It hadn't even hit the cutout body. I ready another one and it lands dead centre. I smile victoriously, before turning to look at the game makers, that haven't noticed I had fired another one. They're just crowding around the pig with the apple in it mouth.

It was probably one of the stupidest things I'd ever done, but I'm so full of rage that I aim the arrow and shoot. The apple flies out of the mouth and attaches itself to the wall with an arrow sticking out of it. I remember Johanna's advice on to shock them, but I was pretty sure she didn't want me to do that by shooting at the game makers. I can't help myself from smiling when I see all their faces. They had their mouths open wide and their eyebrows look like they're trying to detach themselves from their faces. I take a mock bow, before leaving the centre.

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Only after I tell Blight and Johanna about my stunt with the arrow, I realize just how badly I screwed up. Blight stares at me for a full minute, unblinking, before he throws a vase at a wall and yells at me for twenty minutes, while Johanna sneaks in praises and congratulations me, all with a scary grin on her face.

"How could you!" Blight screams, "You just ruined your chance of survival and probably his while you were at it," he points towards Rilien, whose trying to blend in with the numerous sofa cushions.

"Relax, Blight. Now Katniss, I need you to tell me what you did after you shot the arrow," Johanna orders.

"I took a bow and left," I say, waiting for her eminent yelling.

Instead, she just looks impressed, "A bow, that's perfect."

"Why are you proud?" Blight screams at Johanna, "Katniss just killed herself and you're praising her!"

"Or, she just gave herself probably hundred of new sponsors," Johanna counters.

"It's airing," Rilien intrurupts. Immediately, all the eyes turn to the television. Within ten seconds, all of us were sitting around the screen as Caesar Flickerman announces the scores. The careers all get nines and tens, the foxfaced girl earns a five, and Rilien gets an eight. He lets out a relieved sigh.

"Good job Rilien!" Aiola cheers in her pesky perky voice.

"That will definitely get you sponsors," Blight says, happily, until my name was announces.

Immediately, he sombers, shoots me an almost mourning glance as Caesar looks at the paper in his hand.

"Katniss Everdeen, District Seven is an," Caesar Flickerman pauses for a minute, surprised. I got a 0. The only person in Hunger Games history to score a 0. Even the guy that managed to burn down the entire floor got a 1. I'm screwed.

"An eleven!" He announces, before moving on to the next person.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. As Johanna starts laughing and Blight was smiling like there was no tomorrow.

"Good job," Rilien tells me. I feel like I should hear the hiss of cold that I hear whenever he talks to me, but I don't.

"You too," I respond.

"An eleven!" Blight screams, "Eleven!" I'm not sure even he can properly believe it.

They manage to calm down by the time Peeta's score comes up. He receives an eight, which is pretty high compared to the rest of the tributes. I smile, tributes with higher scores don't tend to get killed too early on in the games. Normally, they're big or skilled enough to escape the initial blood bath, but you can't always count on the scores. Just look at Travier. He scored a eight, but look where that lead him: to an unmarked casket flown in by airplane.

I can still remember the fight to his death. It only lasted twelve seconds. An axe was in hands and suddenly another one was in his stomach. He looked down at the blood seeping through his shirt, collapsed on the ground and died, not even knowing who killed him. I look at Rilien, listening intently to a joke Johanna says. I could see the red blood flooding out of his shirt and the axe through his stomach. I shake the thoughts out of my head. Peeta and Rilien are no Travier.

"Katniss?" Blight says, "Can I talk to you?"

"Why?" I ask.

"I'll tell you once were somewhere more private," He tells me. I follow him to another room.

"This thing you have with the boy from Twelve, it has to stop," He orders.

How did he know? He hadn't seen us together. As far as he knows, Peeta and I haven't talked since the first day of training. The only person who knows is Rilien. The red headed rat!  
"I'm going to kill him!" I say, angrily.

"Peeta?" He asks, a bit hopefully.

I shoot him a angry look, "Rilien. He was the one who spilled, wasn't he?"

Blight purses his lips together, but gives a slight nod, "Johanna made him."

"Johanna?" I asks. I'm surprised, I thought she didn't care about my life, much less care so much she didn't want me spending time with another tribute.

"Johanna can be very, ah, persuasive," He informs me.

"Well, tell Johanna to keep her nose out of other people's business," I reply, sneering.

I'm about to leave the room, until Blight speaks, "Only one comes out Katniss. It doesn't matter if you're friends, enemies or married. The Capitol controls the outcome and if they see you with Peeta and assume something, who knows what could happen."

Inter district relations never happen. The only people from separate districts who see each other are the victors and the escorts. I've heard of escorts having relationships with victors, but as soon as it hits the papers, the escort is gone and a relative of the victor is reaped. I think of Prim being reaped for the next games without anyone willing to volunteer for her and Mom loosing it again because her entire family is gone. Without looking Blight in the eyes, I leave the room.

Dinner is somber. Everyone can detect my bad mood and the tension between Blight and I. Aiola tries to make conversation, but since no one else feels like talking, she gives up. I excuse myself as soon as I'm done and go up to the roof.

The roof is the same as always, windy and peaceful. The only difference is that this time I'm not alone. Peeta stis on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling off.

"8 isn't a bad score bad," I say, walking towards him, slowly. My plan of what to tell him tonight rings in my head. I feel guiltier and guiltier every step I take.

Peeta turns around, "You got an eleven, Katniss." He grins at me and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for me to sit down. It's now or never, either I tell him, or we let whatever we have go on.

I make up my mind, "Peeta, we have to stop," I blurt out.

Peeta stares at me for a minute, before he tries to make a joke, "Stop what? Breathing? Because one of us probably will in the next week."

"Don't joke about that," I tell him. I'm not in the mood to be reminded that this is one of the last times I'll see him without us being enemies.

Peeta frowns, "Are you okay?"

"We need to stop," I repeat, hoping he'll understand what I'm trying to tell him.

Suspicion fills Peeta's face, "Stop what? I'm not good at solving cryptic messages."

"What ever we have, this friendship," I cry out.

Peeta's face falls, "No."

"It's too dangerous," I insist.

"Why? All everyone knows is that we're just allies," He says.

"Rumours, Peeta! They spread," I yell. How does he not understand this? "I have a family. They're relying on me to survive and I can't risk that by doing this with you!"

"We can pretend, tomorrow when were together before the interviews, we can act like nothing has happened and in the arena, we can ignore each other," He pleads in a rush.

"Only one of us comes out," I remind him, "I can't kill someone I'm friends with. Peeta, please, don't make me have to make that choice, because I need to go back to my family."

"Katniss!" He pleads, but I walk back into the elevator and ride down. It's for the best. It has to be. It's for Prim and Mom and whoever else can be effected by my stupid choices.

I open the apartment door. Johanna's in the living room looking at me, questioningly.

"It's over," I tell her, angrily. I feel like punching her, running her through with a spear or a fucking axe. This entire thing is her fault, she had caught on to Peeta and I, she had forced Rilien to spill and then she had the nerve to make Blight tell me. Instead of breaking off a nearby table leg and stabbing her, I just storm to my room and lock myself in the bathroom.

In the mirror, I look like a wreck. My face is red and I look like I could kill someone without a second thought. I let the forest scented shower water wash over me. I heat the water up, so that I can pretend the reason my face is red isn't because of anger or sadness. I stay there for over an hour, before climbing into my too plush bed and trying to fall asleep. Instead, I stay up for a few more hours, my mind whirling with visions of Peeta dying horrible deaths in the games and it being my fault. I feel guilty, but I shouldn't, because I did this for Prim. And I'd do anything for her, so why do I feel so awful?

* * *

So we got some drama mixed in now, always fun. Hope everyone enjoyed!

Also, some shameless self advertising: I also write occasional one shots for the Hunger Games and it would be an honour if you read one.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Ten

Waking up is one of the strangest feelings in the world. At first, you have no idea what's going on, until you realize where you are and then you're hit with the worst memory, like that you have a test that you didn't study for, or that you had a interview that determined if you lived or died, or if your mentor had just forced you to end the only thing you enjoyed about the games. I groan into the pillows.

"Rise and shine!" Johanna yells though the door, "Get up! Aiola's not letting us eat until you get up so move!"

I'm not in the mood for breakfast. The thought of facing Johanna after what she forced me to do to Peeta last night is enough to make me punch a wall. But still, I'm hungry and the thought of the delicious syrup from yesterday wins me over.

After making sure I'm an additional fifteen minutes late, I arrive at the dining room and I sit down. I start eating, muttering into my plate. Johanna stares challengingly at me, while Blight and Rilien ate and try to avoid my eyes. I'm just waiting to get angry and they can tell.

"Interview day," Aiola chirps, completely ignorant of the mood in the room. Another reason I'm looking at my plate: Aiola's outfit. Blindingly bright, with literal lightbulbs attached that change colours so fast I wouldn't be surprised if I get a seizure. "Katniss, you'll come with me first then one of your mentors is going to help you figure out how to make yourself likeable, alright?"

I nod glumly. The interviews are at seven, so that means only four hours with Aiola and another four with Johanna and Blight. At the moment, even spending time with the person I can't look at without squinting sounds more appetizing than my mentors.

Four hours later, I take my statement back. Every inch of my feet hurt from the tight heels, my back hurts from the stiff posture Aiola imposed on me and my eyes hurt from looking at her. Every single detail about me had been fixed, even the ones I didn't know existed. From the way I stood to the correct way to drink from a wineglass while wearing lipstick had been way I stood, the way I sat. Aiola made me practice my entrance over twenty two times, until she declared adequate, with a sigh that told me she didn't even think it was that.

I snicker at Rilien when we switch places. Just before I enter the living room, I brace myself to face Johanna. Don't get mad, don't think about stabbing her, don't think about Peeta. I step inside. To my delight, Johanna isn't in the room, even though Blight is.

"Johanna won't be joining us," He explains me. I smile.

"Now about the interviews, you need to have a personality," He continues.

My smile vanishes, "A what?" I ask, feeling stupid.

"A face for the public," He clarifies, "Sexy, or cocky."

At my confused expression, he frowns, "Just do what I say alright."

The first one we try is cocky, but I'm not arrogant enough. Then it's mysterious, sexy, funny and we even try smart mouthed, before Blight shoots it down once he realizes all of my quips insult the Capitol. Now, four hours later, Blight just gives up and tells me to smile and not act like a cat getting petted the wrong way. I stare at him with a _is this really the best you can do?_

Blight shrugs half heartedly and pats me on the back.

* * *

I head down to the stylists room, where Aery, my tree loving stylist pulls out a dress. It's too poofy for my liking, but she informs me it's all the rage recently. She's picked a nice evergreen shade, which I was grateful for. It's not some crazy Capitol design idea with bells and whistles. She pulls my hair into a complicated braid, stating that it's my signature style. When I ask what that means, she just mutters something insulting about the districts.

I'm grateful to get out of the vanilla smelling change room, but as soon as I get out, I'm ambushed by Blight and Johanna. I can't deny that my mood goes south as soon as I notice that Johanna is back.

"So, make them like you. You have to make them laugh harder, or remind them about the family you're leaving behind," Blight explains.

Johanna cuts him off, "Make sure they miss you. Out of all the tributes, it has to be you they want to come back."

I nod, before walking to where Rilien is leaning against a wall. He watches the District One girl, Glimmer, get interviewed. She's playing sexy, wearing a super short dress and placing little innuendos in her answers. She's great with the crowd. Her little jokes make them laugh and the interviewer, Caesar Flickerman knows how to make her shine. The rest of the careers follow her lead, playing their angle with ease and triumph. My hope is close to dying. What chance do I have to win against these people? They've trained their entire lives for this moment, while I've only hunted a few time a week for squirrels.

The boy from Six isn't leaving much of an impression on the crowd. He's gone for cocky, but isn't playing it well, with his soft spoken answers and indistinct mumblings. It hasn't helped that his score was 6.

"Thank you, Welland," Caesar says, as the tribute walks off the stage. The crowd applauds politely, but it's nothing close to the noise Glimmer got.

"And now, for Katniss Everdeen!" He announces. My heart feels like it's about to leap out of of my chest, but I manage to pull off some sort of weak smile.

"Hello Ms Everdeen," Caesar greets. I shake his hand, before sitting down on the cushy chair beside him. I look out to the crowd. There must be at least a thousand of them, all staring at me like hawks. Everyone has different coloured hair, making them seem like the most disorganized rainbow. It's stunning, really.

"So, Katniss. District Seven is very different than the Capitol. What has impressed you the most since you arrived?" he asks.

My mind goes blank, "The lamb stew," I answer. I feel like banging my head on a wall. I complimented the stew. Of all the luxurious the Capitol owns, I complimented the stew.

Caesar gives a little laugh, "The one with the dried plums? I eat it by the bucketful," He then presses his hand against his stomach in mock horror, "It doesn't show does it?"

The audience laughs, reassuring him that he was thin.

"Now Katniss, I speak for all of us when we say that your training score was incredible. Mind giving us a hint?" He asks.

"It was definitely a first, I'd say," I tell him.

"Nothing else?" He asks.

"I think the sessions remain secret, correct?" I ask the row of game makers in the crowd. They all nod eagerly.

"Sorry Caesar, but my lips are sealed," I say. To my surprise, the crowd is smiling. I don't know how, but even Blight is nodding approvingly.

Caesar acts put down for a second, before asking me another question, "Can you tell us your thoughts, before you saw your scores?"

I feel myself getting nervous again, but I spout out the first answer that comes to mind, "That I was going to get a 0."  
"A zero," Caesar exclaimes, incredulously, "And you are aware that the tribute that burnt down an entire floor of the training centre received a one?"

I nod.

"Well, you were slightly wrong," He informs me, sounding regretful. The audience is loving this. They're smiling and cheering.

"Now, back to the Reaping. That was your sister you volunteered for. Can you tell us anything about her?" Caesar asks.

I nod, "Her name is Prim, she's twelve and I love her more than anything."

The crowd is silent, listening to every word I say.

"And after the Reaping, did she say anything to you?" Caesar ask.

I take a deep breath, "She told me to stay alive and to win."

"And what did you say?"

"I told her I would," I respond. My heart is starting to beat a million miles per hour and I'm sweating like a pig. The audience all looks saddened.

The buzzer goes off, signifying the end of the interview went off.

"Thats all the time we have tonight Katniss. Good luck for the games," Caesar says, before he greets Rilien, who is playing the prepared angle, who has everything figured out. I return to my seat an blanked out the rest of the interviews, until it was District Twelve's turn.

First up is their girl, the willowy one. She looks like the average District Twelve tribute: weak, underfed and nervous. Cannon fodder, I think, regretfully.

"Citizens of the Capitol, say hellow to our lovely tribute from District Twelve, Jhoda!" Ceasar introduces.

Jhoda waves to the camera, smiling shyly.

"Now Jhoda, you made quite a splash at the tribute parade, mind filling us in on what you were thinking?" Caesar asks.

"Well my stylist Cinna came up to me and told me that he was going to set me on fire," She says, her tone conveying Cinna as some sort of madman. The crowd roars with laughter.

"I didn't protest too much, because you know, I'm probably going to die anyways. What's a few days, right?" She finishes. The room goes quiet. The joking mood disappears instantly, replaced by an awkward tension. No tribute says that they're going to die. It's taboo, an automatic way to garantee you won't get sponsors. And from looking at the stunned faces the the Capitol citizens, I can tell they don't like to think about it that way either. Death is messy. The Capitol prefers to see the last person alive as a Victor of the Hunger Games, not the sole survivor of twenty four kids.

Caesar attempts to break the tension, "Why the negativity, Jhoda? I say you have the making of a possible victor and as the Capitol says, aim for the best and disregard the worst."

Jhoda shrugs, "I'm not from the Capitol, Caesar. In District Twelve, we know that when a canary drops dead in the mines, it means you're going to die no matter what and my reaping was my canary dying," She replies, with the ease of a professional reporter. For a moment, I'm trying to figure out what happened to the cannon fodder girl I'd seen at the beginning of the interview. District Twelve doesn't have good speakers, so why is this girl so prepared? And either incredibly brave or incredibly reckless enough to say those types of things about the Capitol? I can already see the Gamemakers whispering among themselves.

Caesar forces a smile, "Well moving on, is there anything you'd like to mention to the whole country while you can?"  
Jhoda smiles, "Yes Caesar, there is." She stands up, takes a deep breath and spins. Her dress flares out, flames spilling over the sides. Her entire dress is burning, but Jhoda doesn't seem to care. When it finishes burning, her dress is white. Ashes, I realize. Her makeup which didn't seem to quite match her dress before suddenly does. The pale face, lack of colour…then, I figure out what her stylist did. He let Jhoda die. Let the whole world see what the Hunger Games did to a spirited young girl. Let the Capitol see it in a way they can't deny. Shoved the cold truth down their throats.

I want to cheer for both of them, but the deadly stares I see the Game makers shoot Jhoda stops me. She won't last the day in the Games, I realize. THe Game makers have marked her as dangerous, so she won't be allowed to live.

Her bell goes off. It's not been three minutes yet, but no one protests. Everyone in the Capitolis still shaken from what they saw.

Caesar immediately calls Peeta on. He is given a shaky applause, then starts off comparing the districts to different breads and then made some jokes about the showers, like Jhoda was never there to begin with. The audience adores him. A distraction from what they just witnessed, they fixate on Peeta, on what a good tribute should be: an entertainer, optimistic, a touch of intimidation towards the Capitol.

"So Peeta, we're all wondering, do you have a girl back home?" Caesar asks.

Peeta makes a grin that fades, like he's playing a happy man who wishes for an unrequited love.

"No," He responds, shaking his head.

Caesar cocks an eyebrow, "You're good looking, strong. There has to be one."

Peeta sighs, "Well, there is one, I met her really recently, but I don't think it's going to work out."

"Is she seeing someone else?" Caesar asks.

Peeta shakes his head.

"Then if you win and go back to Twelve, she has to go out with you," Caesar exclaims. The audience cheers.

"That's not gong to help me, Caesar" Peeta says, sombrely.

"And why's that?" Caesar asks.

Peeta takes a huge breath, like he's readying himself for a big announcement, "She's from Seven."

* * *

Bam! Another chapter finished!  
Now, Jhoda is kind of like what Katniss could of been is she hadn't played her cards right. Too outspoken, too risky. Some people thrive when given the chance to speak with a lot of people listening and Jhoda is one of them. She knows how to play her cards so that the result is what she wanted. However, this discounts the fact that the Capitol doesn't want that, in fact they want to shut her up as fast as possible.

Katniss in the book series on the other hand was first and foremost concerned with survival. So she didn't talk about the injustices of district life during her interview, when the whole world was watching, because she had people to take care of. Her rebellion was done subtly, in a way the citizens of the Capitol enjoyed, which became a problem for the people in charge because the biggest deciding factor in weather or not the games are a success is audience appreciation.

Jhoda gave the audience a bad impression of her, so they won't care if she dies, giving the Game makers what they want.

Katniss on the other hand had the audience eating out of her hand, which meant that the Game makers couldn't kill her off without facing dissatisfaction from the Capitol audience.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Eleven

The crowd is so quiet, you can hear a pin the cameras point at my face, when I realize that I am the girl from Seven. My face is flushing red and I look down at my feet to avoid the cameras. The audience is silent, for once.

"That's bad luck," Caesar says, apologetically. Peeta nods and the buzzer is the only sound in the room.

"Good luck, Peeta. May the odds, however impossible, be in your favour," Caesar says, as Peeta walked off the stage. I'm still frozen in my chair and in a daze for the rest of Caesar's goodbyes to the audience.

The moment I'm hidden away from the cameras, Johanna and Blight stalk towards me. Blight has a look of cold fury, while Johanna just looks murderous.

"What happened?" Blight asks, cooly.

"I don't know," I tell them, truthfully.

"You didn't break it off did you?" Johanna accuses.

"Yes I did!" I defend, "Just like you told me to."

Johanna snorts, "Believe it or not, but the proclamation of his love for you doesn't back your case."

"I didn't know he was going to do anything like that! We were only friends!" I sputter. Blight narrows his eyes at me, "Alright."

I can tell he doesn't believe me. I'm ready to drop the conversation, but Johanna isn't.

"Alright? Alright! Katniss just ruined her chance of survival over boy troubles!" Johanna yells at Blight, "And you're just going to say alright?"

"What else can we do?" Blight demands.

"Damage control? Dismiss it on teenage hormones?" Johanna replies.

"They're not going to buy it," Blight responds, angrily.

"They might," Johanna says, "We need to try!" She's still breathing hard, but she's calming down.

"No," Blight orders, his tone making it clear that it's not up for debate. For a moment, I think Johanna is about to punch him, but instead she just pivots and marches towards Rilien, who was looking like a petrified rabbit during the whole scene. Blight walks in front of me, making it clear he's not in the mood to talk. I don't mind, all I can think about is Peeta's proclamation of love.

We turn the corner and see the Twelve crowd waiting for the elevator. Peeta is standing there, talking to his district partner, the girl whose dress turne dinto ashes. I walk towards Peeta and slap him, as hard as I can.

"What the hell was that Peeta! I tell you I want to end our friendship and the next day, the next fucking day, you want to become my boyfriend!" I yell at him, "What gave you the right? Did you even think about my family? Prim?"

I'm beyond mad. Madder than I am at Aery for dressing me up as a tree, Blight for thinking I'm a liar and Johanna for making me end my friendship with Peeta. Haymitch, Peeta's drunken mentor pushes me away from him with a surprising amount of force, considering he's a washed up drunk. Johanna, Blight and Rilien get there a second later. Everyone stares at the bright red handprint on Peeta's cheek and then at me.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says, sounding not the least bit sorry.

"Oh, your sorry. Well it's a bit late for that isn't it?" I shoot back.

"If anything I helped you!" He defends himself.

"Helped?" I ask, outraged, "How in the world—"

Johanna cuts me off, "Wait."

"What? No!" I yell, prepared to finish my statement.

Haymitch begins arguing, "You can capitalize on this, I can sell the sweet baker boy from Twelve as easily as you can sell the girl who got the highest training score, but is a likeable as a dead slug, but if we can sell them as the soulmates from separate districts, we can give them both a chance!"

I'm still ready to slap Peeta and Haymitch while I'm at it, but to my horror, Johanna and Blight seem to be considering it.

The elevator arrives at the seventh floor with a ding and we all climb in it. I spend the ride glaring at Peeta, while Blight, Johanna and Haymitch make plans to meet, all the while ignoring my protests. I storm into my bedroom, close the door and try to get to sleep.

No matter how long I keep my eyes close, I can't fall asleep, all I can think of is Travier. I wonder if he had slept on this exact bed, knowing that he'd probably be killed the next day, or if he thought he would survive and see his family again. Did he get nightmares and wake up screaming, like Rilien did the other night? Did he think about the family that would suffer, or the hunting partner he'd leave alone? Back home I liked to pretend that Travier spent his last few days alive being defiant and rebellious, not bending to any Capitol rule or demand. I still remember watching his interview and being completely dumbfounded, because the Travier I was watching on the screen wasn't the same one I knew. He looked glossy and unreal, just like the Capitol citizens we'd see in the advertisements. I couldn't spot a single flaw in his appearance, even the mole on his neck was disappeared, like magic. It was scary.

I try to shut my eyes again, but hours later when they're eyes still open, I get sick of it and head up to the roof, hoping that Peeta wouldn't be there.

To my luck, the roof is absent of the baker. I go over to the edge and sit, looking down on the colourful city. Crowds of lights pulse through the city, the street lamps are light up in a barrage of colour and bright explosions of light are in the sky. My school teacher once told us about them, fireworks, I remember her calling them. We see them on tv every year, but they're nothing compared to the real thing. They're so far away they could be stars, the clouds of smoke they leave behind blend into the background, only to light up again when another firework goes off. It's mesmerizing.

"The parties are for us, tonight," Peeta tells me, opening the door onto the roof.

"Get away from me," I order. I'm not in the mood to talk, especially because in less than twenty four hours I'm probably going to be killing people, or, I think bitterly, I'd be dead.

"Katniss," He pleads again, exactly like he had last night.

I face him, "Why did you do it? We could get sponsors alone, why the hell did you bring me into your complicated plan? I have a family to look after! People that might not survive if I don't win these games!"

Peeta tries to sit next to me, before I give him a harsh glare. Peeta sits beside me anyways and I scoot over a bit. I'm still fuming, imagining stabbing him with a pitchfork.

He faces me, "Because I want you to stay alive for the longest time possible and if this helps for just ten minutes, it'll be worth it," He tells me. I stare at him, was he being honest? Or just trying to play me? His eyes are mesmerizing, a light blue that I can stare into for hours. I can see an naive innocence in his eyes, the same naive innocence I see in Prim's. He hasn't faced real hardship, not like I have. He can still dream of a happy ending, but the good type of people never win they game. Peeta couldn't kill anyone, he'll probably be gone by the bloodbath.

I don't respond. It makes sense. Additional sponsors help you live longer, it's a fact, part of the reason the careers win so often.

"Why me though? You could of use your district partner, Jhoda or what ever her name is and done it. It would of been easier," I ask.

"Because Katniss, maybe I do like you, maybe I want the Capitol to die in a hole for keeping us apart by threatening your family. Maybe I don't want them to hold all the cards anymore," He tells me. I stay quiet, just stare at the huge party that's taking up an entire park. I can hear laughter and loud music sounding from it. I think of District Seven, where they are probably preparing for another day of gruelling work, Prim is having a nightmare, about watching me die, slow and bloody.

"Katniss, if I die in the bloodbath, if I'm the first cannon, I want you to know that you have to win. Stretch the mourning tribute act to the max, make sponsors beg your mentors to give them money," Peeta says.

"You won't die in the bloodbath," I lie.

"You never know," He responds, grimly. I feel a small sadness. Peeta isn't naive enough to think getting past the bloodbath will be easy.

"I can't act," I tell him. It's the truth. I couldn't play any of the personalities Blight wanted me to play for the interviews and that was with four hours to practice.

"Then I'll give you some motivation," He says. I look at him, puzzled. What in the world did that even mean? Then, he kisses me. It's short, barely lasting a second, before he dashes out into the elevator. I blink. I can still feel a warmth on my lips. I'm in a daze as I head back to my room thoughts spinning in my head, before I fall asleep. Does Peeta actually expect us to get together during the games? And if he dies, does he even care how he left me feeling? Was his entire time since I met him an act to get this more sponsors?

* * *

Hi everyone, I'd like to apologize for not updating for a while. It's been a very stressful time for me recently and this story isn't a priority compared to everything else in my life. So, once again, I'm sorry.


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